


New Days Dawn

by castielslovesong



Series: A Pirates Life For Us [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol as a Coping Mechanism, Canonical Character Death, Demons, Demons Sammy, Emotions, F/M, Hurt, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, I Should Stop Now, Impala, M/M, Pirates, Pirates and Demons, Sailing, Ship, The Colt - Freeform, getting drunk, injured, protective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:59:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1202110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielslovesong/pseuds/castielslovesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All it takes is a whisper and Dean Winchester would drop everything and go.</p><p>"That is without doubt the worst pirate I have ever seen."<br/>―Bobby Singer about Dean Winchester<br/>"That's got to be the best pirate I've ever seen."<br/>―Castiel Novak about Dean Winchester</p><p>"Idjits."</p><p>Dean and Sam are on another crazy adventure in search of their long lost father John and while everyone is left guessing, Cas helps Bobby with some more details about Gabriel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Days Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Omg, I'm so bad at updating I'm so sorry :3
> 
> I dunno if it kinda seems like the boys grew a uterus and started pining, if that's the vibe you guys get can you tell me? I don't want their relationship to be like that. 
> 
> I hope to get another work up before school on Monday.... mer.
> 
> Thanks for reading, PLEASE feedback and I hope you enjoy. It's long, get in! 
> 
> Peace Out Bitches -xo

If they weren’t sharing a room, i.e. he had the pleasure of wrapping himself around Dean every night, he probably wouldn’t have heard Dean leave. Thinking back on it, Dean had come to bed particularly jittery that night. He had drunken heavily at the bar, and then went through a heated conversation with Bobby _and_ Sam. Something’s up. And the sinking in Cas’ gut was rippling through his abdomen.

“Dean?” His voice was hoarse from sleep. The shadowy figure making his way around the room froze; then it moved closer. He felt lips brush against his forehead.

“I’m sorry Cas.”

The heat was gone. Scrambling from the bed, Cas tripped putting his clothes on, he followed the sounds coming down the hall. He chased the silhouettes of noise, blinking in the darkness.

“Dean?” He repeated as he collided with Jo.

From his right he heard Bobby shout, “Idjit’s!”

Then it was chaos. Following Jo, Bobby and Ellen, they pursued the gangly figure that Cas realised was Sam, and the bow legged man running beside him. Dean cast off as Sam climbed aboard, the rest of them coming to a stop at the end of the jetty.

“What’s going on?” Jo whispered to her Mom.

Bobby simply repeated, “Damned idjits. Are you boys trying to give me a heart attack?!”

The ship began to drift away, out of hearing range.

“You can’t sail a ship that size with two people.” Cas stated, bewildered as the red sky bled across the horizon.

“They’re Winchester’s sweetheart, there ain’t a force I know of that’s been able to stop them yet.” Ellen sighed, squinting at the boat; turning heel, leaving Cas to watch the shrinking vessel on an unknown mission.

_He is without doubt the best pirate I’ve ever seen._

 

 

“You’re sure?” Hesitantly, Sam stood next to his brother at the helm.

“Of course I’m sure Sammy,” Dean’s voice came out tired and quiet.

That worried Sam to no end. Angry Dean, he hated to see but could deal with. Sad, happy, determined. No matter what, Dean always had some expression filling his voice or playing across his face; that includes the slate his sometimes pulls down. But emptiness? A void? Nothing good could possibly come from that.

“I’m just so... Tired, you know Sammy?” He sighed again, looking anywhere but Sam even though it meant staring down the plummeting sun.

“Hang on, are you willingly submitting to a chick flick moment? Cos if you are, this needs to wait until I have your full attention and we aren’t about to run headfirst into something that’s probably a trap –” The instant the words left his mouth, he regretted it. It was a low blow at any rate. Visibly, Dean’s cheekbones shifted beneath his tanned skin and his jaw locked out.

“I can’t do this alone.”

“Yes, you can.” Sam defended. He was leaving Jess, _again_ , on another crazy cross ocean adventure. Although he loved his brother, trying to find Dad was slowly killing him.

“Yeah, well... I don’t want to.”

Exhaling quietly through his nose, Sam turned away. Tears pricked his eyes. How long could he run from this?

 

 

“Where are they going, Bobby?” After watching the man he adored shrink away into the horizon, he followed the Harvelle’s back into The Roadhouse.

Around him, despite it being barely past the early hours of the morning, the remaining crew and family were nursing different strengths of drink. Jo looked into her beer bottle, searching for the answer to life’s questions in the bubbling liquid. Bobby and Ellen were talking quietly, the whisky in their glasses becoming larger in quantities as the refills went on.

“Idjits have gone to find their Daddy.” Grunting following a particularly heavy shot, Bobby sighed hard. “Last time I saw that man I threatened to blast him full of buckshot.”

Jo snorted. “Yeah you had the shotgun cocked and everything.”

“What can I say? John just has that effect on people.” Bobby made his leave, probably to drink something stronger Cas guessed. He could get the most information out of Jo, if he tried.

Beside him, Jo and Ash joined him at the bar; Ellen went into the kitchens, leaving them to an uncomfortable silence broken only by the faint clinks of glass on wood.

“He’s been gone 10 years. Hit Dean pretty hard back then.” Ash stroked his hair nervously through his mullet.

“They were all almost killed... Again. I swear, the Winchester’s have been dicing with death since they were kids. The Impala got blown up. Nearly all of it gone. They were moored for weeks, injured, hungry, the usual. Sam was the least hurt, but when they all woke up, John was gone.”

Cas was silent. He knew about that attack, hell he had been on the ship told to avoid it. And they did. Just like that his brothers turned a blind eye while the Hunters sailed directly into danger. “The Impala, it was destroyed?”

“Dean rebuilt it. Sam cut the wood and stuff, Dean fixed her up. You wouldn’t know it. That ship carries some of the scars we all do.”

Licking his lips, Cas swallowed. “How many times, have they almost died?”

“Dean? More than 10-“

“I’d say 15 times, directly, you know? Death kinda comes in the job description, unless you become Bobby, the life span of a pirate is about 35.”

“Sam, I’d say 5 times directly. Course Dean was always there, taking the blows. But Sammy’s come close all by himself.”

Silence encapsulated them.

“Dean has scars-“

Jo nearly fell off her seat. “You’ve seen him naked?!”

“Damn dude, I knew he was into you, but _d-a-m-n._ ” Whistling, Ash slid off his seat and collapsed straight to the floor. Cas stared at them both, trying to work out why it was such a big deal, Dean had told him not to mention it but...

“He went missing when he was 19. 5 years. _5 years_ he was gone. We all thought he was dead. Then he shows up. Acts like nothing’s happened; he never got nude again.”

“You liked him?” Cas tilted his head at the blush on her face.

“He’s more like my big brother.” She said quietly.

“Lots of people seem to view him like that.”

At that moment, Bobby came back through the door. “Come on idjit,” he rolled his eyes at Cas’ blank expression, “How about you sack up and help me find your long lost brother?”

 

 

It was tense. He could see that Sam wanted to push the matter further, but he couldn’t. Not now. Right now, he needed to focus on finding Dad. If what Missouri had told him was true, then Dad _was_ alive. He was in need of rescuing.

_Azazel._

Shivering at the thought, Dean clasped the wheel of his ship till his knuckles went pale and the bones were almost protruding through his skin.

“So get this,” Sam walked up the steps; hair flopped across his face as he crossed over to where Dean was standing. “We’re only a day out and I think I see our in.”

This is why he needed Sam. Sam was his anchor. His little brother singlehandedly kept him grounded – though perhaps the emptiness that has settled further up his chest is the void Cas had filled. Guilt landed its crushing blow as Dean winced at the memory of how he’d left. But this was his Dad; he could never explain the duty he held to that man.

The spray from the ocean settled over his skin and he could feel the salt clinging to his scruff. Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine a simpler time, where he could just _sail_ endlessly... Maybe Cas would come on a road trip of sorts with him someday. A cough brought him out of his stupor. Sam was staring at him pointedly, bitch face #7 sweeping over his features.

“Alright Samsquatch hit me with what you got.”

Silence spread out between them before Sam caved. “The coordinates you got lead to an old graveyard in Wyoming.”

“Dude Wyoming’s that old cowboy city, we’re heading to an abandoned cowboy city?!”

“Dean you love cowboys.” Sam deadpanned and punctuated with an eye roll.

Grunting, Dean rubbed a hand in his eyes and stifled a yawn.

“I’m pretty sure there is going to be quite a few Demons there but we can deal with them on the way in.” Sam continued, eyes sweeping over his brother a few times, “You should sleep Dean. I can drive her for a few hours.”

Warily glaring at his brother, another yawn caught him off guard and had him going for a good 10 seconds. “You crash baby and I’ll cut your damn hair.”

Sam laughed, “Jerk.”

As he plonked down the steps, checking the ropes, he shouted back, “Bitch!”  

Falling into his bed unceremoniously, fully clothed, knife under his pillow, he felt something tug at the corners of his heart. His eye lids fluttered shut. The sound of Cas’ trench coat flapping in the wind beside him while he stared out at the sea, rod in hand, lulled him into a less sporadic sleep.

 

“So I had some of my guys ask around but really I’m working with nothing ya idjit.” Bobby was sitting at his desk, the map laid out in front of him, little red tacs littering the eastern coastline. There were some across the ocean as well.

“Europe!? We haven’t been to Europe together since we were kids.” Answering, he slumped down in the chair where Dean usually sat. If he was honest with himself, his thoughts couldn’t be further from Gabriel. That is, if Gabriel was even still alive. In his mind, everything led back to Dean.

“I need to know everything about him. His likes, dislike, hair colour eye colour. It might take some time but, this is the only shot we have.” Sliding across a glass, Castiel took it instantly.

“So he has longish brown hair, hazel eyes...”

 

As the sun rose over the eastern sea, the boys stepped onto the jetty. The planks shuddered under their weight, their combined steps falling into sync making it groan in the stark quiet of the coast.

“Well this is nice, not creepy at all.” Surveying the area, the men were met with abandoned buildings and silent streets.

Once they were actually walking along solid land, they saw the extent of the abandonment. It was just fronts. There was nothing there except for model buildings and a forest that stretched all the way back, far out of sight. Dean was about to walk out of one of the buildings fake backs when he felt Sam’s hand on his arm. He stopped. Turning his head to see round the edge of the doorway to where Sam had indicated with his head, he saw a group of people with guns at the end of the ‘street’.

The brothers exchanged a look. Sam trailed after Dean as they tracked the group through the dense woodland.

 

Cas stared at the map, then back to the books, then back to the map. Huffing a disgruntled, irritated, noise he rolled his eyes at the thought of Gabriel now. He was probably tricking some poor people into being scared out of their minds... Or giving him all their money. Cas strained his ears to hear if Bobby had come back yet. Nothing answered. On the other side of Bobby’s desk was a well used journal. He knew he shouldn’t look... However, his memory chose this moment to helpfully provide Dean at his desk flicking through the same book.

_Just a quick look._

 

They trailed the men all the way to a graveyard. A spooky-ass graveyard. Dean missed the gentle respite of the sea already. Beside him, Sam tensed. Quickly looking in the direction of his brother’s gaze, he saw an old man standing on what looked like a trap door, talking to the men.

_Azazel._

**_Got you now you son of a bitch._ **

“What is this place Dean?”

Dean heard Sam’s voice but it filtered through as nothing but white noise. Of course he knew what that place was. He’d been _inside_ one of those before. Snapping out of the black hole in his memories, he spoke below his breath. “A gateway to Hell.”

“What?!” It was the least manly noise Sam had ever made when something roughly pulled him back by the shoulder, disarming him completely. Instantly, Dean swung into action, the sword from his belt sliding past his brother and into the vile man behind him.

“Sammy!” He threw the sword, trusting his brother to catch it and deal with the on comers on his side. Fists clenched and body poised, Dean rounded the two that came towards him.

The left man was unfortunate, stepping within striking distance of both Dean’s fist and Dean’s leg. A snapping sound, along with soft grunts to the side of them, marked the end of _that_ fight, when the man fell backwards over a gravestone.

_Unlucky chuck._

Consciously checking for the Colt on his belt, which had one lucky bullet left, Dean rounded the gravestones with agility (considering he was walking backwards thank you very much). The one on the right was a short, wide man, with a face that vaguely reminded Dean of an unfortunate pig Sam had killed once. Before he could stop himself, “Dude, you fugly,” slipped out and the man rushed forwards.

He tackled Dean to the ground. A rough crack that seemed to echo forever in Dean’s head sent stars into his vision. From somewhere in the yard, Dean could hear Sam shouting at him but his body wouldn’t cooperate; black began to seep into the edges of his vision.

 

Sam heard more than he saw Dean go down. Slamming the sword into the Demon he was fighting, he fought Dean’s attacker from his increasingly unconscious body.

“Dean, Dean listen to me you have to keep your eyes open.” He pulled the sword across the throat of the downright hideous guy that had hurt Dean. No remorse fell through Sam’s system as blood splattered his shirt and he dropped to his knees to pull his brother up into a sitting position against one of the old graves.

“Come on man, you’re not clocking out on me in the middle of a graveyard.”

That caused a smile to tug at the bloodstained lips of his brother. His attention was then taken to Dean’s hands that were straining with the attempt to move the Colt from Dean’s holder.

  
“Sam,” Dean spat some blood to the side and wheezed uneasily, “Finish this.”

No sooner than the words came out, did Sam once again feel a heavy weight against his shoulder. The surprising strength of the shorter balding man that Sam had forgotten was there, _yeah you can beat me up about it later jerk_ , sent him crashing into the cold stone slab and the boot to the head didn’t help to keep him cognisant.

 

“Sammy!” Dean called, his breath strained. In the corner of his bleeding in and out vision his saw the man kick Sam in the head. Drawing in a pained breath, Dean pushed himself to the side, fingers grappling to pull the Colt into a line of sight.

His eyes met those with a sickly yellow hue; he braced himself for the pain that he knew was incoming. The first blow kicked the Colt from his shaking hand to the side. Next came a crushing stomp to his spine, causing him to suck in harsh and cry out low.

“Dean, Dean, Dean.  Thanks a bunch for bringing little Sammy here. I knew I kept you alive for some reason. Until now anyway. I couldn't have done it without your pathetic self-loathing, self-destructive desire to sacrifice yourself for your family! First John, now you. It really does seem to be a reoccurring factor for you Winchesters.”

Pushing himself up on his uninjured hand, he glared at the manically grinning man. “You stay the hell away from my brother you son of a bitch!”

The kick to his ribs sent him colliding and rolling in the dirt. He screamed into the mud that filled his mouth, hoping it would muffle his cries enough for him to gather the strength to push himself up again. To fight back.

Strenuously lifting his body from the ground, the back of his head met the nose of the gun.

“Nice toy, shouldn’t play with Daddy’s guns though Deano.”

 Dean closed his eyes as he heard the click of the safety and the hammer being pulled back.

A scuffle and the feel of cold steel dropping onto his hand made him look up sharply.

“Dad!?”

John was wrestling the sinewy man from behind, his eyes locked on Dean’s. In a flash, the man ripped John from his shoulders and wrung his neck like a wet towel. The sickening snap that ensued whipped Dean back into motion. He heard Sam shout Dad from behind him. But none of that mattered.

Forcing the broken digits around the trigger, he used his left hand to steady the gun.

“This is for Mom and Dad you sick son of a bitch.” The gun shot ricocheted through his hand and as he dropped the weapon to the floor, he watched as those lifeless yellow eyes closed and the hole in the centre of his forehead began to trickle crimson down his pale face.

He had fallen to his knees and could now feel Sam’s giant hand on his shoulder. Grounding him, anchoring him to Earth because there, lying just as inert as the monster beside him... Was their Dad. He didn’t bother holding back the tears this time. Unabashed icy rivulets trickled down his face.

“Now that it’s over...” Sam broke the silence between his own quiet cries, “I don’t know what to say.”

“We got ‘em Sammy.” He sniffed, tears for his long lost father finally shed.

“You got him Dean.” Sam admitted quietly.

“I had help.” Sighing, Dean made to get to his feet but was stopped by the pain that was swelling across his abdomen. “We should... Salt and burn. It’s what he would have wanted.”

_Second to going down on the Impala._

He was helped to his feet by Sam and in silence they gathered the materials from the fallen trees around them. Building a pyre around the corpse of their father’s body, Dean stroke the match. The boys stared into the flames slowly engulfing the last biological family member they had left besides one another.  

 

 

Cas spent a lot of time reading the books at the bar. From there he had a clear view of the port and the ocean stretching out away from Tortuga. It had been 4 days since they left. Dean could be dead, or injured... Sam could have been captured and Dean could need their help –

No. He wouldn’t let himself play out the a thousand separate ways that Dean could be dying in for fear of losing his sanity. Daring another glance in his routine of checks, he noticed the tip of black sails blotting out the bright morning sun.

Nearly falling off his chair, he shouted to the family, “They’re back... The Impala!” _Dean_. He ran down the jetty and was joined by the eager members beside him.

By the time Sam hand clonked down onto the hard wood, Cas was nearly vibrating with worry, concern and excitement. Jess ran into his turned back; it was only after Dean also dropped down that he realised Sam was injured, his leg slightly bent and arms held close, and helping lessen the brunt of Dean’s fall.

“Dean?” Cas stepped forward, absorbing the sight that he had sorely missed for 4 days. The man was dishevelled, scruffy beard clinging to his face and covered head to toe in numerous pigments of dirt and blood. He looked bone tired and the second their eyes met, Cas felt something inside himself shatter.

Dean crashed forward, wrapping his arms around him and he reciprocated immediately. The scratch of Dean’s beard was itchy on his neck; he didn’t even care what had happened.

“I missed you and your stupid trench coat.” Dean mumbled into his neck.

Smiling, he held Dean tighter. And everyone left them like that, reunited beneath the rays of a new days dawn.

**Author's Note:**

> So my update schedule is kinda fucked. With school its gunna be an update when I can. There's gunna be like 20 works in this so I dunno how long uwu
> 
> Mistakes will be sorted as and when I see them, apologies it's unbetad.


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